


In the Comfort of the Knight

by VincentValen



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Harley Quinn (Comics)
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-15 10:22:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29187756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VincentValen/pseuds/VincentValen
Summary: During a deal gone wrong between the gangs of the Joker, the Penguin and Two-Face, Harley Quinn is wounded and left for dead by her puddin. Resigned to death, Harley is saved by a man they’ve been trying to kill so many times...the Batman.
Relationships: Harleen Quinzel & Bruce Wayne, Harleen Quinzel/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 30
Kudos: 50





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So...here I go. I adore Harley/Bruce tales, and after reading two fantastic stories, those being:
> 
> In Darkest Knights, The Brightest Sparks by CanonConvergence18: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19022392/chapters/45176218
> 
> And, When Harley Met Bruce by Jasontodd908: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27001207/chapters/65912167
> 
> I decided to attempt my own. I definitely endorse reading both. I'm certainly not gonna be as well detailed as the two stories above, but I hope to do my best in bringing another tale of wholesome goodness.
> 
> For some establishing details to make imagining characters easier, my inspiration for characters goes as such:
> 
> Batman: drawn from the young version we got in the 2004 cartoon The Batman (which is very underrated imo)  
> Alfred: the version from the Gotham TV series. I like my Alfred to have a bit of toughness about him, and I loved Sean Pertwee's portrayal of the character  
> Harley Quinn: A combination of the original animated series she came from and the Arkham video games. Though she starts in the classic outfit, she'll change over the course of the story
> 
> Joker: Original animated series  
> Two-Face: Original animated series  
> Penguin: The Batman (2004), can't beat Tom Kenny :D
> 
> As for the other villains I'll introduce, I'll specify where they draw from, as my preference for designs flips between cartoons, live-action, and video games.
> 
> With all that said, let us begin :)

As was the norm in Gotham, the night was dark...and wet. A downpour of rain kept most of its citizens indoors, the gloomy weather canceling any plans they might have had. But a little bit of rain never kept crime away though.

“Unfortunately for them, it doesn’t keep  _ him  _ away either,” Jim Gordon muttered to himself. The gruff commissioner grumbled to himself, standing alone on the roof of the GCPD. He was waiting by a large spotlight, colloquially called the Batsignal. He never expected an instant arrival, but he would’ve at least preferred to be not as soaked as a sponge before he went home tonight.

“Nice night, Jim,” he heard behind him. Unsurprised, as he’d been far used to this procedure by now, he turned to find the caped crusader standing there, as stoic as he ever was.

“Don’t have a Bat-Umbrella in that toolbelt of yours?” he joked. Batman didn’t reply, again as usual.

“What do you have for me tonight?” Batman inquired.

“Messy business. Got a tip from a CI, apparently a big deal is going down, and everyone’s planning on stabbing each other in the back,” Gordon explained, pacing back and forth.

“Everyone being?”

“Joker, Penguin, Two-Face. Surprised Riddler’s sitting this one out, but then he was never one to be around a gunfight. It’s going down by the docks, so I’d get going if I were-”

Looking up, he saw that Batman had pulled his typical disappearing act.

“You.”

Bruce hit the wet street, water splashing far on impact. Pressing a button on his utility belt, the lights of the Batmobile lit up, the canopy opening up for its driver. He leapt in, taking off for the docks immediately.

“Master Wayne?” he heard over the radio.

“Alfred,” Bruce replied.

“Need I remind you that Bruce Wayne is expected at an early fundraiser event tomorrow morning?”

“Noted, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do anything tonight,” he answered, swerving the Batmobile through a sharp turn.

Alfred sighed. “Three years into this mission of yours, and you still haven’t managed to learn how to balance your night life and your social life.”

“Well good thing I have you to keep me on point. Have you checked the location out?”

“Indeed. The drone cannot get a clear picture, but there are numerous vehicles...and a clown car parked outside of a large building.”

“Joker sure loves to stand out. Hopefully I can get there before the bullets start flying.”

“Considering the temper of the Penguin, and the volatility of Two-Face...I wish you luck, Master Wayne.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence Alfred,” Bruce replied.

The deal was originally gonna go down outside, but the crappy weather had forced the trio of villains, along with their respective gangs to huddle inside a nearby warehouse. 

Two-Face, formerly the District Attorney known as Harvey Dent, sat in one corner, flipping his lucky coin in the air over and over. In another corner sat the Penguin, who was getting vastly irritated by the sounds the scarred man was making.

“Can we get on with this already?” the small-tempered man shouted. His men behind him nodded in agreement, shivering from the cold outside. Only their boss had the umbrella they wish they’d all brought.

“Come now, Ozzy, maybe he’ll get the side he’s looking for on the hundredth time,” joked the third major occupant. The Clown Prince of Crime grinned widely at his own humor.

“Anytime now, Harv. Ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven…” counted off the clown’s sole female companion. Harley Quinn tapped her foot impatiently as she rang off the numbers.

“Heads...now that luck is on my side...let’s talk,” growled Two-Face as he stepped forward, the other two following suit.

“So we all know what we’re doing here, right? You two geniuses have been cutting in on my business, and it's high time you both butted out,” Penguin stated.

“Practice what you preach there, Penguin. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your guys frequenting my territory too,” Two-Face answered.

“What’s that gotta do with us then?” Harley wondered out loud. 

“You and your boy toy have been doing whatever you want. That’s also something that’s stopping tonight. Stick to your carnival, freakshow,” Penguin yelled, pointing his umbrella at the clown pair.

At those words, the pale white face of the Joker scrunched in anger, and he snapped his fingers. The big brutes he’d brought along stepped forward, each lugging an RPG over their backs.

“Play nice Pengy. Else you might find yourself with a rocket in your pocket. Now if you want me and Harls staying out of your way, you better have a hell of a compensation package,” the clown snapped back.

“Oh I dunno, VIP passes to the Iceberg Lounge would be a nice start. Your patrons always give and my boys weird looks.”

“Can’t imagine why,” Harvey grumbled.

“Oh you have jokes now too, Fry-Face? Everyone’s a fucking comedian suddenly,” Joker yelled, clearly getting more and more agitated.

“Not hard to make fun of a pasty-face failed comedian with too much makeup on his face,” Penguin retorted.

And that broke the camel’s back. As the clown opened his mouth to give the order, the lights in the building suddenly shut off, just as a single shot rang out, along with a gasp of pain.

“FIRE,” yelled all three gang leaders. Muzzle flashes lit up the darkness, along with a stream of fire, courtesy of Penguin’s umbrella. All through the shadows, a figure moved through the occupants of the room, breaking arms and guns.

“Don’t just hide you big palookas, use those things,” Joker ordered.

“Boss I can’t see where to shoot,” one of the big guys said.

“Point it away from my voice, and SHOOT,” the clown shouted.

_ Swiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish _

An explosion rocked the building, several fires starting from the incendiary weapon’s aftermath. Bodies were everywhere, though by some miracle, none were dead. Two-Face got to his feet first, patting down his already half-burnt suit to put out a few small embers.

“Get up! We gotta bounce before the cops show up,” he barked at his men. They scrambled to the exit, not bothering to pick up their now melted hardware. 

Penguin’s diminutive body was knocked out cold, so his henchmen had to carry him out. 

“You imbecile! Were you trying to blow us all up?” Joker yelled at the goon who’d fired his rocket.

“But boss, you’re the one that told me to,” the grunt argued. 

“Ugh…” Joker groaned, pulling out a pistol and swiftly executing the man.

“I hate it when people make excuses. Let’s go,”

“Uhh...boss, what about-”

“WE ARE LEAVING,” he declared angrily. His purple suit was dirty and torn, and he hated it. 

...

Several minutes later, Bruce groaned as he got to his feet. He had been in the middle of knocking Penguin’s lights out when the rocket had been fired.

“Alfred?” he groaned.

“Oh thank goodness. I was viewing your heads up display when everything went dark. Dark as in after the explosion, that is. Are you all right?” the butler asked.

“Just had my head rocked is all. I think they’re all gone already.”

“Well at least no one died. They have a right to life, even if they’re spending it breaking the law. Best return to the cave before the police arrive.”

“I’ll be right-” he began, before hearing a whimper amongst the burning flames.

“There.”

He switched on the x-ray filter in his cowl, quickly spotting the other sole occupant of the room now. He moved over to the body, moving aside several pieces of debris until he found...her.

“Harley,” he said. The clown’s accomplice was unconscious, her red and black outfit was torn in a number of spots. But that wasn’t as critical as the bleeding he spotted on the jester’s lower body.

“Shit.”

“Master Wayne? Is there a problem?” Alfred asked with concern.

“Harley Quinn was left behind. And she’s wounded badly.”

“Oh dear. Perhaps you should let the police take her to the hospital?”

“I don’t think she’ll make it that long. I’m bringing her in.”

“Sir? That really isn’t a wise decision…”

“Alfred you just said criminals like her don’t deserve to die. And you’re gonna tell me not to save her?”

“...I will prepare the proper medical tools.”

“Thank you Alfred, I’ll be there as soon as possible,” he said as he crouched next to Harley’s body. He quickly examined the wound, and could see there was no exit wound, so the bullet was still inside.

“Bullet’s still inside, Alfred.”

“Oh dear. Be gentle with her sir, any extreme movement could make the wound significantly worse,” Alfred warned.

“Will do,” he answered. Reaching into his toolbelt, he placed a seal over the wound to prevent further blood loss. Being as gentle as he could lifting her body up, he carried her out of the building, summoning the Batmobile with another press of a button. The back of the vehicle opened up, revealing a pair of seats used to transport civilians or criminals. Making sure she was properly secured, and wouldn’t be jostled by any movement, he hopped into the driver’s seat and took off like…

_ A bat out of hell _ . He inwardly groaned at the pun that formed in his head.

Alfred was prepping the operation table, already having snapped on a pair of gloves. Beside him were several surgical tools laid out. He sighed inwardly, not being all too pleased with Bruce’s decision. He made sure to set aside several sedatives to keep Harley under. The last thing he wanted was her waking up in the midst of a tricky procedure.

Hearing the roar of the Batmobile, Alfred pushed aside the negative thoughts. There was work to be done. The vehicle blasted into the cave, parked swiftly. The canopy opened and Bruce jumped right out, heading to the back to pull out the patient. 

“All set there, Al?” Bruce asked.

“Sir you really should try to avoid names,” Alfred urged.

“I thought I was. Besides she’s definitely out of it,” he responded, carrying her over to the operating table. He laid her out carefully, then pulled out a batarang. Using the sharp end carefully, he tore a wide hole around the wound.

“Thank you sir. If you could move the radiographer over her,” Alfred requested, snapping on a surgical mask. Bruce moved the large x-ray to a high position over Harley, then stepped aside.

“Anything else I can do?” he inquired.

“You can take off the suit for starters, large gloves built for combat are not proficient at surgical assistance. Then get the proper medical clothing on, and you can then aid me,” the butler dictated as he injected a sedative into Harley’s arm.

“This isn’t gonna be pleasant for her is it?”

“As long as she stays under, this will hopefully remain a bad dream for her,” Alfred answered, before picking up a pair of tools and bending over the patient.

_ “Harleen Quinzel.” _

_ Harley blinked, jostled from her idle daydreaming by her formal name being called. She got to her feet, her gown flowing down her legs, and she walked up to the stage, a big smile on her face. _

_ This was a big moment for her, the first in her family to graduate college, with a doctorate in psychology no less. As she stepped onto the stage, she approached the speaker, who presented her with her diploma. _

_ “Congratulations, Miss Quinzel. How’s about a nice couple of flips for the crowd?” the speaker said. _

_ “What?” Harley said, taken aback. Then she got a good look at the man. His green hair. His purple suit. His pale white face. That wide smile. _

_ “Come on girl. You know I don’t like to be kept waiting,” he said, cackling his wicked laugh. _

_ Then suddenly the world melted away… _

_ “Miss Quinzel?” _

_ She slowly blinked again, registering the new voice. _

_ “Yes?” she responded. She was in another room now. A significantly smaller one, an office. Sitting in front of a desk belonging to another woman, her tag reading ‘Dr. Leland’. _

_ “I was hoping you might tell me more about yourself. Beyond this resume and your thesis. Why was psychology the path you chose?” the older woman inquired. _

_ “Well...it’s a bit personal,” Harley began. _

_ “I’ve heard many personal stories. Do tell.” _

_ “My mom wasn’t so great at picking partners. Seems like each one always took a piece of her with them, be it through drinking, physical abuse, and mental abuse. I hated how worn down she got over the years raising me and I just...wanted to learn how to help her put things back together.” _

_ “I see...and did you?” _

_ “Never really got the chance. Bout a couple years into med school, I got a call from her doctor. Says she’d been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. And after a certain amount of time, she hardly recognizes me anymore,” Harley explained, looking down at the floor. _

_ “Aww...does mummy not know what her brat looks like anymore?” a voice said harshly. _

_ She looks up in confusion, finding the kind visage of Dr. Leland had been replaced by that same white face. _

_ “So mommy went cuckoo, boo fucking hoo. Now you think if you fix enough heads, that’ll make up for failing her? What a childish concept,” he growled, launching into another burst of laughter. _

Bruce watched Alfred work in silence, handing him whatever tool he called out for. It was quite a wonder to behold. He’d studied dozens of different fighting styles, and numerous detective skills, but when it came to the human body, all he really knew was what spots to hit to knock someone out quickly. 

“You know, you never really told me how you picked up so many handy skills,” Bruce wondered aloud.

“Nor shall I,” Alfred swiftly retorted.

“Ah come on, not even a clue?” Bruce said.

“...It was a job a long time ago, and it was how I met your father,” the butler answered.

Before he could inquire what kind of job, knowing he probably wouldn’t get an answer, Alfred soon called out ‘bowl’ which was Bruce’s cue to grab the small metal bowl, already a bit messy with blood. Alfred soon stood up, another bullet fragment clutched within a pair of tweezers. He then dropped it into the bowl, a small ‘clank’ sounding out as it fell in.

“One more to go,” he declared before taking a deep breath and resuming his work.

_ “Ya know what your name sounds like?” he said. _

_ Harley rolled her eyes. _

_ “Harlequin. You’re not the first to make that joke. Got that all throughout high school,” she answered. _

_ “It’s ironic though isn’t it? You, a harlequin, interviewing me, the Joker. I’d say we’re a match made in heaven, my sweet,” the clown said with a grin. _

_ Then the walls of the asylum melted, the restraints around the man were gone, and the pair were then speeding away in a high speed chase, the Batmobile close behind. _

_ “Bats always has to ruin the fun,” Joker yelled, accelerating the car even further. _

_ “Don’t worry Mister J, I got him,” she said, her face now matching his in whiteness. She stuck her body halfway out the passenger side window, a comical looking bazooka on her shoulder. Firing several times behind them, she watched as the Batmobile swerved left and right to avoid the chaotic explosions. _

_ Then she heard a door open. Slipping back inside, she found herself alone, and the car barreling down the end of the street into Gotham’s harbor. _

_ “Puddin?” she said meekly before the vehicle crashed through the rails and splashed into the water, sinking to the depths below. _

_ The water was freezing, and she could not find the strength to move. Despite her ears being full of water, she sensed another splash. Did her puddin come back for her? A figure moved closer to her. She could make out the pointed ears, the long cape, glowing white eyes and...and… _

She opened her eyes.

“Hello?” she said aloud. She tried to move, but a ‘clank’ soon clued her in that she was secured and not budging.

“Anyone there?” she asked, raising her voice a little louder. Out of sight, she heard footsteps, a pair of them. One light, the other more heavy.

“How are you feeling?” she heard a familiar voice. Batman stepped into her vision, still looking as...well as crazy as anyone who dressed like a bat would.

“Good...should I not be?” she inquired.

“You were shot, so we might’ve expected you to wake up screaming. You didn’t.”

“Oh...umm...thanks?” she said, feeling awkward. As many times as her and Mister J had tried killing him, she certainly didn’t expect to be saved by him.

“So uhh...what now?” she asked.

  
“Now you rest,” the other voice said. Another man stepped into her sight. An older one, as he had a vast amount of gray hair. She couldn’t see his face, as he was wearing a surgical mask and gown. “I was able to remove the bullet fragments, but you will need to remain here for at least a week before we can test your movement.”

“So I’m what, your prisoner?” she scoffed.

“You are our patient, I would not feel right if we let you go in such a condition. And I sincerely doubt the Joker has the medical acumen to take care of you. Do you concur?” the old man stated.

“I...I suppose,” she agreed. There wasn’t much of an argument there, Joker’s response to his goons getting hurt was usually just to yell at them to man up and put a band-aid on it. At which point they’d go to her for help. Though her own medical work was in fixing heads on the inside, she had enough experience to patch them up. So she couldn’t deny the man’s statement.

“In any case I shall take to your room,” Alfred said.

“My room? That’s...are we in a hotel or something?” she wondered.

“No, but you can understand why we can’t keep you down here of all places. We have plenty of room up above,” he replied. He then pulled out a strip of dark fabric. “You can also understand the desire for privacy, I’m sure.”

“Kinky old man, aren’t ya?” she joked, drawing an eye roll from the butler. “Go ahead.”

Alfred tied the blindfold around her eyes, then cautiously uncuffed her from the table. “Please keep in mind the Batman will be accompanying us. So play nice.”

To their surprise, Harley remained surprisingly docile. They led her into the elevator out of the cave and through the mansion. Alfred had been very quick to set up a proper holding area. When the blindfold was dropped, Harley had to blink a couple of times, as they were now in a properly lit room. A decently sized bed along with a dresser, already comforting in her mind as Joker didn’t exactly supply the luxuries for a gal like her. There was an adjoining bathroom as well, though she couldn’t see inside it from her position. A television was mounted on the wall, along with a small bookcase with a stocking of various genres.

“Geez. If I’d known getting abducted by Batman got me this kinda treatment, I’d have gotten captured on purpose,” she said with a smile.

Though he tried to hide it, Bruce caught the smirk that appeared on Alfred’s face for a brief moment.

“The door will be locked, we’ll bring you food when the time comes,” Batman began.

“Don’t got a watch, but is it dinner time now by any chance? I’m kinda hungry,” Harley cut in. Bruce glanced at Alfred who quickly turned around to leave. “I’ll see what I can rustle up in a hurry.”

“Thanks uhh...whoever ya are,” she called back to him.

Again Alfred had to prevent a smile from appearing. This was quite the odd night. The door closed behind them, and Bruce took a few steps forward.

“The books are from our library. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t damage them. The television’s got any channel you could ask for. And as for the view,” he said, moving over to the window. It was large enough to give a decent view of the city.

“Apply too much pressure, say to try and break it, and the security system will kick in.”

“Think you’re a bit paranoid there Bats?” Harley questioned.

“I took a big risk bringing you here Harley. If you can behave yourself during your time here...maybe there’s a chance we can get you back to Harleen Quinzel,” he admitted.

“Ha...fat chance of that happening,” she said.

“Oh I don’t know about that. I think it could happen.”

“What makes ya say that?” she said, her hands on her hips.

“For starters...you haven’t noticed you don’t look like a clown anymore,” he said with a smirk. Harley’s eyes widened as she touched her face, not feeling the white paint she regularly kept on. Despite the blindfold being gone, she hadn’t looked at her own body as well, finding she was out of her costume. How did she not notice that this entire time?

“I…” Harley was at a loss for words.

“Food will be coming soon Harley. If you want to take a shower first, feel free. There’s fresh clothes in the dresser as well. Have a good night,” he said, before leaving the room.

  
_ “This...is gonna take some getting used to,”  _ she thought to herself.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Bruce walked into the kitchen, seeing Alfred preparing a large breakfast. 

“That all for me?” he asked, taking a seat at the table.

“Part of it. Figured I should make a good first impression on our guest, besides being her medic,” Alfred explained.

“You’re sure you're okay going up there alone?”

“Master Bruce, if I cannot handle being alone with a woman like Harley Quinn, I will hand in my resignation as your butler immediately,” he retorted. With that said he took a tray and left the young man alone.

Smirking at the butler’s words, Bruce took some of the remaining breakfast buffet, a bagel and some scrambled eggs, then poured himself a glass of water. Before munching down on the food, he grabbed a nearby remote and turned on the small television embedded in the refrigerator. As always it was set to the news.

“This is Vicki Vale, reporting live from the Gotham Carnival,” said the lovely female reporter. Vicki was a dashing blonde, one who’d tried to catch Bruce’s eye many times. While Alfred had pushed him to try a relationship, Bruce had declined, stating that the last thing he wanted was a girlfriend who would most definitely notice his nightly disappearances.

“There appears to be dissidence in the ranks of Joker’s gang, as several of the so-called Clown Prince of Crimes’s associates now lay dead on the boardwalk,” she continued.

Bruce’s eyes widened at the news report. He wondered what was the cause. That was quickly answered shortly after the thought occurred.

“There were some survivors of the incident, who were taken to Gotham General by police. Reports were given, after much coercion from the District Attorney, that Joker had been outraged over an event that happened several hours earlier. A meeting between himself, Penguin, and Two-Face, that was then visited by the vigilante known as the Batman.”

_ “Yeah that would do it,” _ Bruce thought. His head was still feeling the aftereffects of that RPG going off.

As the billionaire continued to listen to the report, Alfred had reached the room where their guest was located. He knocked a few times. 

“Miss Quinn? I would like to enter to bring your breakfast. Are you decent?” he inquired. After waiting several seconds for a response, he couldn’t discern an answer, only hearing the sounds of the television. Cautiously he unlocked the door, then opened it slowly.

He spotted Harley at the edge of the bed, still in a nightgown she had evidently changed into last night. She was seemingly in a trance as her eyes were firmly locked on the television on the wall. His eyes followed her gaze to the monitor, also set to the news.

“Further testimonies stated the Joker was also furious over the perceived disappearance of his known female accomplice, Harley Quinn. The former psychiatrist turned criminal, she was always seen by his side until last night. Police are asking anyone with information to step forward and report-“

Harley blinked as she looked to the doorway, seeing Alfred, who’d taken the liberty of turning off the TV with his own remote. Universal technology had it uses.

“I trust you’re not blaming yourself for his actions,” he said.

“Even if I didn’t cause it, I sure as heck ain’t there to prevent it either,” she answered.

Alfred’s brow furrowed behind the physical mask he wore to protect his identity. For the moment he was using one of Bruce’s old prototype masks, before they’d perfected the cowl.

“Precisely what do you mean by that?” he asked. He moved across the room, extending the legs attached to the tray of food he brought up, setting it up for the woman, along with some plastic utensils. Can’t be too careful after all.

“Mister J ain’t no saint, but I’d like to think I tempered his worst impulses,” she said.

“How so?”

“Most of our...his plans were usually just to make folks laugh. Course his sense of humor was a lot different from regular people, so he tended to go above and beyond the norm. Typically if things didn’t go his way, he’d get angry, whack something or someone with a cane or his silly boxing gloves. Civvies, his minions...me. But if I ain’t around...he gets worse.”

“I dread asking this but...how much worse?” Alfred asked.

“Torture, murder, the whole shebang. Once he stops trying to be funny, he just gets violent. So I can only imagine what me not being there is doing to his mind right now,” she pondered.

“I see. Well thank you for the insight, Miss Quinn. I shall go inform M-“ he caught himself before his usual naming of Master Bruce. “I shall go inform Batman of this situation. Do eat your breakfast before it gets cold,” he finished before departing the room.

Harley still felt rather glum, getting off the bed and moving over to the tray of food. As she took the cover off though, a smile crept onto her face as she saw the meal. Eggs and bacon, set into the silliest smile she’d ever seen along with a side of toast and orange juice. She held back a sniffle as a memory played in her head. The happy thought was fleeting, but it was enough to get her to put aside the troubles in her mind as she sat down to eat.

Alfred had a damn good sense of where Bruce would be, and sure enough, he found him in the Batcave. Seated at the large computer setup, he was poring over the police reports of the previous night’s events.

“Tell me you’ve found something, sir,” he asked as he approached.

“Police reports only describe so much. I’ll probably have to get into the hospital, talk to some of the survivors,” Bruce stated.

“I see...will that occur before today’s end?” the butler inquired. At that question, Bruce turned the chair around, reading the old man’s face.

“You sound...different Alfred. Is that concern I hear in your voice?” he wondered.

“I...don’t know what you mean sir,” Alfred said, looking away.

“Alfred. You’ve only ever used that tone a few times in my life, surely you’d think I’d have noticed by now?”

Alfred relented. “Our guest has told me things that I believe may require an acceleration in your efforts to capture the Joker.”

“Hmm...go on,” Bruce said. 

“She implied that she is a form of restraint on the Joker’s worst habits, and the longer that they are apart, the more he will degrade morally. And considering what he did over one night, I think we are in agreement that catching him as soon as possible will be good for both her and Gotham.”

“Guess I better get going then, huh? Keep an eye on her for me, will ya Alfred?” Bruce responded, pulling on the cowl.

“Will do sir. Best of luck,” the butler said. With that, the Batman swiftly leapt into the Batmobile, the engine ignited, and he zoomed out of the caves. Left alone, Alfred suppressed a small cough, pounding his chest a bit, before he headed back into the manor, wondering what Miss Quinn would like for lunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small one, I know, but just wanted to cover the first day, and the immediate aftereffects of Harley and Joker being apart from one another. I'm not gonna set some limit on word count before I post something, just when I feel is a proper time to drop another piece of the story.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Beep...beep...beep… _

Donnie’s eyes cracked open, the sounds of the heart monitor finally waking him. His eyes wandered around the dark room, the only light coming from the window in the doorway. He could spot a couple of cops standing guard outside it.

“Good you’re awake,” he heard a voice say. The man’s eyes snapped back to the dark corners of the room, growing wide as a tall figure emerged from the shadows.

“They won’t be bothering us,” the costumed vigilante said. Donnie didn’t bother screaming. Like many criminals he was fully aware of Batman’s MO. He’d ask, you’d answer. If not, he’d just hurt you til you did.

“Tell me what happened last night after the events of the warehouse,” he ordered. Donnie grumbled in protest, but it only took a glimpse of Batman’s gloved hands turning into fists for him to start talking.

“Joker was fucking pissed about the whole meetin goin wrong. We tried to bring him down to more...normal crazy, give him booze and shit, but it only made it worse. Next thing we knew he was unloading a machine gun into all of us. Only reason I lived is cuz...there were so many bodies piled on top,” he said, shuddering at the last words he spoke.

“Hmm,” Batman grunted. That lined up with what Harley told Alfred. He was deteriorating very quickly, considering Harley was only away from for a couple of hours. Who knew what he’d be up to now almost twenty four hours later?

“Did he say anything else?”

“He was screaming about wanting attention. Said he wanted all of Gotham to look at him. Then he drove off...gah,” Donnie cried out, a sharp pain in his side. He looked down at his side, seeing red appear under his bandages.

“Shit...hey Bats, I told ya what ya needed to know, so how about ya get a doc up in-” he said, looking back to find that he was alone.

“Here…” he finished. A few seconds later, the lights snapped on, and the door opened, a doctor walking in along with a couple of nurses.

“Got an alert, what’s going on?” the doctor asked.

“Uhh…stitches I think,” Donnie answered, wondering what brought them here. A glance to his right showed that the call button had been pressed.

Outside the window, Batman leapt to the street below, the Batmobile’s canopy opening up as he dropped in.

“Alfred, are you there?”

____________

Alfred knocked on Miss Quinn’s door, waiting for a moment before letting himself in. The door to the bathroom was shut, so that answered where the lady was. As he set the table for her dinner, his communicator buzzed.

“Sir?” he answered.

“Alfred, I need you to keep an eye on the news networks. Joker’s acting like a brat and crying for attention. He’s probably going to do something drastic and more public than his tantrum from last night,” Bruce explained.

“I see. One moment sir,” he replied, turning on the television in the room. As he scrolled through channels, the bathroom door opened, Harley stepping out in a fresh set of clothes, her hair tied back in a single ponytail.

“Evening,” she said, quietly taking a seat to eat her meal.

“Miss Quinn,” he acknowledged.

“You’re with Harley?” Bruce said, picking up her voice.

“I just delivered her dinner, sir.”

“Might want to get her thoughts on the matter. If she’s willing,” Bruce suggested.

“Hmm,” Alfred said, glancing over to the woman enjoying the food. She noticed him fairly quickly, raising an eyebrow.

“What? Am I not using the right fork?” she asked.

“Batman wishes to ask if you would be willing to offer further insight on the Joker. Evidently with your absence, he is seeking a large amount of attention. Where do you think he might go?” he inquired.

Harley went quiet for a while, both men awaiting to see if she’d even answer. This was the real test, whether or not she’d be willing to outright aid them in capturing Joker.

_ “I do hope you were right, Master Bruce,”  _ Alfred thought to himself.

____________

_ “What seems to be the problem, Harleen?” Dr. Leland asked. _

_ “I’m kinda stuck between a rock and a hard place here, doc. Was hoping to get your advice, if it ain’t too much trouble,” Harley asked. _

_ “I see. Is it safe to assume this is about him?” the doctor stated. _

_ “Yeah…” _

_ “Very well then. I’m all ears.” _

_ “You see I’m kinda hanging around with Batman...and his...do I call him a manservant or sidekick, I dunno. And it's...nice. I can’t say I miss sleeping on makeshift beds, or eating subpar food. I also don’t miss him...hurting me. Now they want me to help catch him and I just don’t know what to do...” _

_ “I’m not quite seeing the dilemma here, Harleen. You’re away from him, and you’re feeling normal.” _

_ “Is it though? I was with him for three years. All that time with someone so...different, I’m not sure I can tell the difference between normal and crazy anymore. Am I just broken?” Harley asked. _

_ “We’re all broken in some way. What matters is that we put ourselves back together. Be it by ourselves, or with help. It certainly seems like you’re in a position to be repaired, by this Batman and his cohort. The question is, what do you want?” _

_ “I want...I want…” _

____________

Harley picked up the remote, but rather than flip through channels, went straight to the guide, searching for something. Alfred watched her eyes looking up and down the list until-

“There,” she declared. Alfred looked at the screen.

“Are you certain, Miss Quinn?” he asked.

“He wants a bunch of attention, he’s gonna get it there. Bet my hair on it,” she replied with a smirk.

“Very well then...sir?” Alfred said.

“Where to?”

“Atlas Arena.”

____________

Atlas Arena was a popular venue in the city, mainly used for more pugilistic forms of entertainment. Tonight was such an event, as the building was filled to the brim with fans and celebrities. All of whom had no idea of the angry threat that was stalking its way into the building.

A few security guards at one of the entrances were relaxing, the attendees having all passed through the checkpoint to get inside. Now they could unwind for a few hours before having to see them all out. One of them noticed a figure in a long coat walking in.

“Bit late there sir, the show’s already started,” he called out. Then the coat suddenly dropped, and the guards only got a second to notice the purple suit, the green hair, and the machine gun in his hands, before bullets riddled their bodies.

“No worries boys...I’m booked for the main event,” Joker growled as he stepped over their corpses. 

Unfortunately for the public, this act of violence went unnoticed, as most of the other security forces were occupied monitoring the show inside. Thus the clown prince of crime was able to progress through the halls quite easily, silently ending the lives of those who were unlucky enough to come across his path with a blade.

As he jabbed another artery, the pale-faced criminal stepped inside the main arena, walking down the entrance ramp. People began to notice the clown waltzing down the aisle, mistaking it as part of the show. It wasn’t until a cane suddenly snapped into his free hand and he bashed the nearby cameraman’s head, sending blood flying everywhere, that the crowd started to gasp. The two men in the ring, scheduled to engage in a good old round of fisticuffs, stared at the insane man outside. 

“Mind giving me the floor, boys? I’ve got a public service announcement to make,” the clown said, grabbing the female ring announcer by the hair, dragging her up the stairs and through the ropes. To their credit, the fighters did rush forward in an attempt to help her, but a swift strike to their heads sent them both crashing to the mat in an instant.

“Be a sport and bring a chair in here, would ya mister bell man? Oh and a microphone as well if you don’t mind,” he requested. Nervously the old man outside brought in the requested items, setting it up and hastily exiting the ring. 

“Thank you, old chap. Now then...citizens of Gotham, rich and poor alike, I have a problem...and no it's not the one you all think I have!” he shouted. “I’ve only got one question to ask…”

“WHERE. IS. MY. HARLEY. QUINN?” he yelled at the top of his lungs.

____________

Harley winced upon hearing her name. Alfred made to change the channel, but she grabbed his arm. Amazingly he didn’t feel the need to react as though she were a hostile criminal.

“Please...don’t,” she pleaded.

Looking into her eyes, he saw...well he didn’t know what he saw. Whatever it was, it was enough for him to relent. They looked back at the screen, watching the madman’s rant continue.

____________

“Do any of you have the slightest idea how long it takes to break a person? To whittle their mind down to the point where they’ll do anything you say, no matter how toxic it is to their own well-being? NO! NONE OF YOU DO! Commitment, loyalty, fear, love, it can take years to accomplish...but when you’re like me...all it can take is one...bad...day,” he growled, his attention looking down at the woman he’d dragged into the ring.

“So what do you say toots...since I can’t seem to find  _ my  _ Harley Quinn, maybe you could be her replacement?” I’ll have to come up with a new name though, can’t just clone the original after all. Jester? Dazzle? Krust-ina? Fuck that’s too cheesy...well we’ve got all night, maybe the crowd can help us decide, what do you say Gotham?” he called out.

At that, the lights went out.

“Who did that? LIGHTS ON THIS INSTANT, OR SHE’S DEAD!” Joker yelled.

So they did, when the ring was illuminated once more, an additional figure stood within it.

“You’re not killing anyone else tonight, Joker,” said the Batman.

“Oh goodie, Gotham’s other favorite son is here to make my mood even worse. But wait...maybe this is a good thing. After all, the world’s greatest detective can surely find my Harley Quinn, I’m sure?” Joker asked, the gun in his hand lazily pointed down at his hostage.

“Stop doing that,” the masked man stated.

“Doing what?”

“You keep referring to her as yours. Like she’s your property. She’s not.”

“Ha. That’s funny Bats, I didn’t peg you for a comedian. You and I both know little miss Quinzel was nothing but a boring office worker before I got my hands on her. I showed her what she really was…”

“You forced it on her. It was never a choice. Tonight though that changed.”   
  
“The hell are you talking about?” the clown growled.

“I know where she is. I know because I saved her life after you left her for dead in that warehouse.”

“You mean to tell she was lying there the whole time and didn’t make a peep? That fucking figures, she can’t even cry for help without my permission.”

“And yet without your permission, she made a choice all on her own tonight. She told me where to find you.”

“WHAT? Impossible,” Joker retorted.

“Believe it. Your hold isn’t as strong as you think it is.”

“NO!NO!NO! Once they accept my way, there’s no going back. You’re making it up!” he declared. His angry tantrum had him flailing his arms about, which took the weapon’s aim off the terrified woman for a brief moment. 

All the time he needed.

Batman threw a batarang, which embedded itself in the Joker’s armed hand. He yelled in pain, dropping the weapon. Blinded with rage, he ran at the Batman, who quickly countered, tossing him into the corner turnbuckle. Taking a single leap, he hit the second, delivering a series of punches to the insane individual.

Oddly enough the crowd began to count the strikes, one to ten. The bizarre reaction made Bruce pause, which let the Joker move out from under him. Even with a battered face, he could still make out the shape of the gun on the mat. He snatched it up and spun around, but was met with the sight of nothing. Looking up, he saw the Batman, who’d jumped off the top rope, soaring through the air. Before he could pull the trigger an armored boot collided with his jawline, putting him down on the mat. The crowd exploded with cheers.

Batman knelt down to make sure he was out, securing his hands with a pair of tamper-proof handcuffs. Suddenly he got caught off guard. Not by him, but by the woman Joker had been holding a gun to as she hugged him in thanks.

“Let’s hear it for the Batman!” she said into a microphone, eliciting another round of applause from the citizens.

“I uhh...you’re welcome,” he said to her.

“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home?” she asked, aiming the mic at his face.

Under normal circumstances this is when he’d leave the bad guy for the GCPD and leave without a whisper. But this time he felt he needed to say something...for her.

“People like this,” he began, pointing at the knocked out criminal. “Don’t determine who you are. You do.”

With that, he shot his grapple gun into the rafters and vanished from the arena.

“Well...that was certainly a show for the ages,” Alfred commented. Glancing at Harley, he saw her exhale for a while, indicating she’d been holding her breath during that fight.

“Miss...Quinzel?” he said, correcting himself. If Bruce was making the effort, he should follow suit.

“Yeah?” she said quietly. 

“If you wish, might I reheat your meal?” he offered.

“Oh...yeah. Thank you…umm..."

“You may call me Alfred.”

Harley’s eyes lit up at those words.

“Whoa...umm...okay...Alfred,” she said waringly.

“Aiding the Batman in taking the Joker down earned you that much. I cannot say the same as to what will earn the Batman’s trust in sharing his own name,” he explained.

“Guess I got some work to do while I’m here huh?”

“Least you won’t be doing it bald, ma’am.”

“Did...did you just make a joke?” she asked.

“I’ll return with your meal shortly,” he quickly answered, picking her tray up and leaving the room. Harley was left alone, though not in silence, as the crowd on the television was still chanting in unison as they clapped ‘Thank you Batman’, bringing a smile to her face again.

____________

Alfred stood in the kitchen, watching the microwave heat up Harley’s meal, as he felt a presence enter the room.

“Did you enjoy your pay-per-view debut, sir?” he asked.

“I’d have liked it more if there hadn’t been casualties before I got there,” Bruce responded, taking a seat at the table.

“Can’t be everywhere at once sir. At least you prevented further death. With our guest’s assistance of course.”

“Definitely narrowed down where to go. We should probably do something for her.”

“I may have already done so. I told her my name,” the butler said.

“What? Alfred that’s...are you sure that’s a good idea?” Bruce asked.

“She hasn’t seen our faces, so I don’t think my name is that much of a giveaway. But if you truly believe she can be rehabilitated, some extension of trust is required. And trust goes both ways.”

“I suppose so. I thought the plan though was to let her go as soon as she was healed. Does that mean we’re keeping her around?”

“Certainly makes it easier for you to find a girlfriend when they’re right upstairs.”

“Alfred I’m starting to think you got dosed with Joker gas,” Bruce said, eliciting a chuckle from the butler. The microwave then beeped its completion, and Alfred took the hot meal out.

“That for me?”

“Actually it's for Miss Quinzel. We were a bit distracted looking at your brawl on television. There’s another meal in the fridge. I trust you know which buttons to press,” Alfred said before he left the young man alone.

“...Quinzel,” Bruce hung on that word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the shorter second bit. I know the fight wasn't long but I figured with Joker's emotional state being what it was, he definitely wasn't in the zone for a proper showdown. Rest not, for there will greater physical challenges for the caped crusader soon.
> 
> Oh and if it wasn't obvious by the description, it's a professional wrestling event


	4. Chapter 4

Suffice to say the next seven days with a supervillain living in your house was odd for Bruce to say the least. For one, he had to carry around his cowl whenever he was in the mansion, often having to tuck it away whenever they had guests around. As Alfred had suggested, he had to make an effort to connect to Harleen, but there was only so much he could give without giving away the golden goose of secrets.

There were some opportunities for bonding though. Alfred found that he and Miss Quinzel actually had a fondness for soap operas. Bruce would never quite forget the night he walked into her room to see Harley passing Alfred a box of tissues to dry his eyes with.

As for Bruce, he found the best times for talking to her was after his nights on patrol. He’d regale her with he did in those late hours, the criminals he caught and the methods used to take them down. All the while she’d lie in bed, sparkles in her eyes like she was a kid hearing a bedtime story.

By day six, the two men had taken to having dinner in her room. Harley was cackling like a...well maniac would be the wrong word now. But she was definitely laughing at the situation of eating at a dinner with Batman and his assistant. Even Alfred had a chuckle at that, Bruce limiting himself to just a smile.

Now at the end of the week, Bruce volunteered to take Harley her breakfast. As he approached the lady’s room, he pulled on the mask as he knocked on her door.

“Come in,” he heard. He unlocked it, then stepped inside. His eyebrows went up, seeing the psychiatrist hanging upside down from the posters of the bed. She was doing a form of workout, curling her body up and down while reading a book at the same time.

“Nice multitasking,” Bruce commented as he set the tray down.

“Thanks. Don’t really got access to a gym, so wanted to keep my butt in shape. Alfred’s cooking is so good, but I don’t need it sticking around my body that long, hehe,” she replied, releasing herself. She landed on her hands, walking on them as she moved over to him.

“What’s up?” she said.

“Well...given your flexibility, I think it's a safe assumption you’re recovered,” he said.

“Oh…” Harley said, feeling dejected. She flipped back onto her feet, her face looking glum. “You got bored of me already?”

“The idea was to let you go after you’d gotten better.”

“Was?” she said, a bit of hope in her tone.

“I talked about it with Alfred, and we want to try and help you get back to some semblance of normal. So, if you wish, you can remain-” he said, before being cut off by Harley immediately throwing herself at him for a hug. Like Alfred before him, he surprisingly didn’t feel the need to react as though she were an enemy.

“Thanks, Bats!” her muffled voice cried. The two remained bonded for a few more seconds before she let go, wiping a few tears from her eyes.

“So umm...is it too much to ask for something yet?” she asked.

“That depends. What is it?” he wondered.

“Well there’s a couple things, though one might be askin too much.”

“Okay.”

“If Alfred doesn’t mind, could he possibly pick up some...female accoutrements for me? Tampons and such, ya know?” she said, smiling cheekily.

“Well that shouldn’t be impossible. What’s the other thing?”

“Could I get out of this room?”

That request made Bruce’s brow furrow, and Harley started waving her hands. “I know, I know, but I’m not gonna do anything crazy, I swear! You can even put a collar on me if that’ll make ya feel safer,” she offered.

“That’s a bit much.”

“The question or the collar?”

“Bit of both.”

“So is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘I’ll think about it’. Is that fine?” he asked.

“Better than a ‘hell no’. I’ll take it,” she said with a smile. Bruce returned the smile, then turned to leave.

____________

“Five minutes, Joker,” the guard said, leaving the white faced maniac alone with his lawyer. How anyone could even consider representing that freak was beyond the man.

“You’re sure they turn those stupid cameras off?” the clown said.

“Even individuals like yourself still warrant the proper application of confidentiality. What is it you called for?” the slick haired lawyer asked.

“Harley.”

“As I’ve said several times, there have been no sightings of her this week. You really should move on and-” he explained, being interrupted by Joker slamming the table with his cuffed hands.

“I want her...back. Put the word out to everyone you can. Bring in outsiders if you have to. Ten million to whoever puts the Bat out of commission and returns Harley to me. But make sure they get the information out of him first.”   
  
“You can’t expect me to believe you have that amount of money just lying around.”

“No, but I’ve got a hell of an equivalent. Go to the old carnival, and look under the ticket booth. Then...do as I asked. Your fee will be there too. And if you take it and run...your retainer will be a vacation six feet under. GOT IT?” he raged.

“Crystal,” the man replied, getting up and leaving the room.

____________ 

“Alfred?” Bruce called out upon returning to the kitchen.

“Yes sir?” Alfred responded, busy at work already preparing the next meal. Harley had a much more wide range of foods she liked to eat, so Alfred was happy to expand the repertoire in his menu.

“I told her.”

“Oh. How did she take it?”

“Quite well I’d say. She uhh...hugged me.”

“Coming from you, sounds like first base has been established,” the butler said.

“I think Harley’s rubbing off on you with all these jokes, Alfred. Anyway she had a couple things to ask now that she’s sticking around longer. She needs more specific items for a lady.”

“Ah. I shall head out after I’m done here. What else did she ask?”

“She asked...to get out of her room.”

“Hmm…”

“That’s how I reacted too. She’s promised to behave herself. Even volunteered to be leashed.”

“Good gracious sir. I hope you won’t take that offer. Having a guest is one thing, a pet is another.”

“I declined. But still...what do you think we should do? It’s not like we can just hide everything that belongs to the Wayne family.”

“Hmm…”

“Alfred?” Bruce said, walking around to the butler, who was trying real hard to keep a poker face.

“Miss Quinzel might have suggested this to me before she informed you, Master Bruce.”

“And?”

“And I may have already taken the lead on this venture,” he said quickly.

“What did you do?” Bruce inquired.

“The paintings of your mother and father, the family heirlooms, everything of significant value, and the signs of Wayne Manor have been all...reassigned.”   
  


“How the heck haven’t I noticed?” Bruce said, befuddled at the surprise.

“To be fair sir, you usually enter the home in and out of the cave. It wasn’t difficult to get this done. There is absolutely nothing here that would give away your identity.”

“You’re really all in on this rehabilitation plan.”

“As you should be as well sir. Now then, would you like to bring her downstairs?” Alfred asked. Bruce pondered for a moment before placing the cowl back on.

“Gladly”

____________

_ Meanwhile, thousands of miles away… _

A masked man was looking at a display, while his arms were occupied lifting a pair of dumbbells. His contacts around the world would send him contracts, but he declined most of them, finding them unworthy of his attention. One however, caught his eye.

“Ten million, elimination of the Batman and the return of one Harley Quinn. Batman has knowledge of her whereabouts.”

Standing up, he dropped the dumbbells, the pair leaving a dent in the floor.

“This sounds like a challenge. Very well then...I will be the one...to break the Bat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a wee bit of setup. Now there's a new threat on the horizon :)


	5. Chapter 5

“Are we clear on the rules?”

“I got it Alfred, just open the door already!”

“What was the rule regarding the outdoor area then?”

“Really, you gotta test me now?”

“Yes.”

“Ugh...grounds are free, but don’t move outside the big gates. Happy?”

“Quite. Here we go then,” Alfred said, opening the main doors to the outside. Harley was practically a blur as she zipped right by the butler, throwing herself into the grassy fields and rolling around like an overactive puppy.

“Do avoid the flowers, Miss Quinzel,” Alfred warned as he followed her out.

“Got it,” she acknowledged, taking in a breath of fresh air. “Ahh.”

Alfred smiled a bit as he set up a lawn chair to relax as he kept an eye on her. It had been a number of weeks since they’d increased Harley’s privileges within the household. No longer contained to a single room, neither man was quite aware of the human tornado they’d let out. The normally dead silence the manor had was filled with all sorts of noises, be it music, tv shows, or a particular woman cartwheeling around the halls after drinking too much soda.

“Man you guys sure do own a lot of dirt. Can’t even see Gotham from here,” Harley commented, looking out at the vast treeline.

“The Batman prefers his privacy, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“Yeah. Still pretty cool. Mis-...Joker never really did stuff outside the city. For an insane criminal that was supposed to be chaos incarnate, he sure did have limits on what he wanted to do,” she said.

“That an official diagnosis Doctor?” Alfred said.

“Uhh...huh. Dunno where that came from,” Harley said, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“I think that’s your mind trying to get back to what it used to do. Let’s call that progress,” Alfred explained, drawing a big grin from Harley.

“So uhh...where’s tall dark and brooding? Down in the cave?” she inquired.

“It’s the middle of the day, he’s out in his normal suit.”   
  
“Ha...wonder what that is. Gotta be pretty big to afford a place like this…”

____________

Bruce was unbelievably bored. While he understood the importance of keeping up appearances, it still didn’t change the dreariness of sitting through meeting after meeting with the same subjects always being discussed. Worse he had to pretend to be interested in all of it, just on the off chance they asked him for his thoughts.

When his schedule finally cleared, he went to his office for a nice cold drink, booting up the computer that connected back to his home base. A knock on the door though made him pause a moment.

“Yes?” he said.

“Got something for you, Mr. Wayne,” a familiar voice said.

“Come in,” he responded. The door opened and an older black man stepped into the room. 

“Afternoon, Lucius,” Bruce said. Lucius Fox was really the man running things at Wayne Industries, taking care of the business side of things. As well as Bruce’s more private contracts.

“Figured you’d need something to take a load of your mind, I know those meetings just feel like a brain drain to you,” Lucius chuckled.

“You and Alfred sharing jokes now?” Bruce said. Brain drain was a very specific choice of words, considering the scheme of Riddler’s he’d dealt with a few days ago. A ridiculous trial of riddles involving mind controlled subjects wearing helmets.

Lucius, aside from Alfred, was one of the few who knew of Bruce’s vigilante work. It was hard to hide the resources he was using from Wayne Industries from the same man who’d designed most of it.

“Oh yes. We’re due to perform for the employees by the end of the week. Is our material up to snuff?” Lucius said with a smirk.

“I’m sure you’ll knock them dead. You said you had something to show me?” Bruce inquired. At that Lucius handed him a tablet, a schematic on the display. His eyes went over the design curiously.

“A powered suit? Seems a bit like overkill, don’t you think?” Bruce asked, handing it back to him.

“I thought it might be a handy tool to have in the armory, should you come across something substantially...bigger,” Lucius explained.

“You’ve been watching the news, I see,” Bruce said.

“Indeed. Numerous armored trucks upended and robbed in the last week. No sign of weapon usage that could’ve blasted them. Seems like someone just flipped them the old fashioned way. So unless someone’s on an adrenaline high, I’d say you’re looking for someone who’s pretty dang big.”

“Hmm. Alright, start the work on it.”

“Already did,” Lucius responded. 

Bruce frowned. “What if I’d said no?”

“Then I’d have just kept it away for a rainy day. Or if Alfred needs a sofa moved.”

“Did Joker gas the entire city at some point and I was just out of town or something? You guys never joke this much…” Bruce said, getting a laugh out of Lucius.

“Perhaps your esteemed guest has a profound effect on your life already. How is she by the way?” Lucius asked.

“Getting better by the day. Alfred’s letting her out into the grounds.”

“Letting that leash extend quite a bit Mr. Wayne. Are we considering letting her into the fold?”

“I don’t know Lucius. This was mainly meant to get her back to normal.”

“In this city, normal could be considered boring, as I’m sure your day-to-day life can attest. Maybe you should ask her what she wants to do after her rehabilitation.”

At that, Bruce turned away to look out the window, the high view of Gotham letting him survey the city.

  
“...hmm.” 

____________

Nightfall came unto Gotham again, the Batsignal shining into the sky once more. Bruce descended onto the roof of the GCPD, finding Commissioner Gordon there with some company.

“Hey Bats, how’s the night life?” said Harvey Bullock. Jim’s longtime partner, he’d been one of many police officers made to serve under the Falcone crime family, but that had been one of the first things Bruce had taken care of once he’d donned the cowl. Though Gordon had received the credit, it was common knowledge amongst the officers that it was a joint effort between him and the Batman. As such, both commanded a great deal of respect from the cops that were on the straight and narrow.

“Few muggers and a would-be rapist. All things considered, pretty quiet until the signal went up. What’s happened?”

“Our armored truck flipper struck again. Dunno what’s up with this guy. If he likes picking up heavy things so much, the world’s strongest man competition is a couple cities over,” Bullock said humorously.

“What else?” Bruce said, ignoring the joke.

“Eyewitnesses are saying the truck’s toppled, but it hasn’t been looted yet. Seems irregular, figured you’d want to look into it,” Gordon stated.

“Hmm.”

“Yeah, and preferably before any civvie gets too curious and decides to try their luck at a few hundred thousand. Ya got that Bat-,” the more rounder detective said, looking to where the vigilante had been standing.

Batman was already gone.

“So he does that all the time, Jimbo?” Bullock asked.

“Every time,” Gordon responded.

“How you don’t get annoyed by that is fucking beyond me…”

____________

“Alfred, you there?” Bruce said, seating himself in the Batmobile.

“Indeed sir, I’ve already located the vehicle in question, and uploaded the coordinates. Do be careful. Given how the situation differs from the previous ones, it could very be-,”

“A trap!” said another voice over comms, taking the dark knight by surprise.

“...Alfred,” Bruce began.

“I didn’t want to leave her alone after such a pleasant day outdoors. Do not worry, I’ve secured everything that could be dangerous for her to touch.”

“I said he could cuff me, but apparently he feels the same way you do when it comes to tying me up, Bats,” Harley piped in.

“...I’ll let you know when I’m at the scene,” Bruce said before cutting off the call.

“Still not there, am I?” Harley said.

“There are very few individuals Batman fully trusts. Don’t feel bad about it,” Alfred said, addressing her concern.

“Yeah...so...got anything safe I can play around with?” she asked hopefully. Alfred thought for a few moments before pressing a few buttons on the computer. A series of lights went on in another part of the cave, illuminating an obstacle course Bruce used in his weekly workout sessions.

“Will that suffice?” he said with a smile. Harley gave him an overjoyed hug before running off. “Thanks Al!” she replied.

“Al? Well I suppose that’s warranted by now. She does love her nicknames,” he remarked to himself before focusing on the computer display in front of him.

____________

Bruce touched down just above the scene of the crime. The police had set up a perimeter going a few blocks away, giving him enough privacy to investigate. Still, all this had him worried. The pattern of robberies suddenly stopping, the money left out in the open. Someone was playing a game with him. Riddler was locked up in Arkham at the present time, so that ruled him out.

_ “Aside from him though, who does things like this...Joker? No he’s in maximum security,” _ he thought to himself as he descended to the ground level.

He peered inside the truck, looking at the damage. As previously reported, there was no sign of weapon usage. In fact judging from the dents in the side, it appeared like someone did in fact flip the vehicle with their bare hands.

“Quite the puzzle, is it not?” a voice called out.

“Trap it is then,” he murmured, turning around to face the one who spoke.

Before him stood a tall man, covered from head to toe in black combat gear, so Bruce could not identify his face. A series of tubes ran along his arms, connected to a number of circular devices across his body.

“You’re new,” Batman remarked.

“I’m a globetrotter, Gotham was not on my radar until fairly recently. I’d heard tales of the Batman who prowls through a city like it were his. But I had current affairs to deal with then, so I allowed your legend to grow. That ends now,” the man explained.

“Do I get to know your name? And why exactly did you choose to come here now?” Batman asked.

“I can give you that courtesy at least. My name is Bane. And you are simply the next contract I picked. Anything else?” Bane stated.

“Want to explain that?” the caped man said, jabbing a thumb back at the truck. At that, the faceless figure’s head changed into a facial expression that even covered up was unmistakable. He was smiling.

“I’m so glad you asked,” he said, reaching for one of the dials on his hands. Turning it, a stream of bright fluid began to move throughout the tubes. Bane began to growl as his body began to shake rapidly. Soon his muscles started to expand along with his overall size. Skin bursted out from the tight clothing, the pigmentation going from a pale gray to a dark red. Batman’s head craned up and up as the man towered over him.

“...fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big Bad Bane steps up to the plate. And for character inspiration rundowns:
> 
> Lucius - Morgan Freeman, can't be topped  
> Gordon and Bullock - Ben McKenzie and Donal Logue from Gotham  
> Bane - 2004 cartoon, if the red skin didn't make it obvious
> 
> Couple more side notes, I appreciate the love this has been getting so far, I know I'm not as good as other writers, so its encouraging :)
> 
> And secondly, one of the writers, Jasontodd908, whom inspired me to do this tale just finished his long journey of a story, and it was a beautiful ending. I cannot recommend enough you go read it if you're into Harley/Bruce stories :)
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/series/2063406
> 
> See ya'll in the next part, where the real action begins and a big move is made :D


	6. Chapter 6

Bane moved at an unnatural speed for someone his size, lunging forward at Batman. He aimed his grapple gun at a nearby roof, zipping out of the charging bull’s path. Once he landed though, he turned to find the giant figure leaping through the air. Before he could react, Bane crashed right into him, the force breaking them through the concrete.

_ “Ow…” _ rang in his head. Buried in rubble, a large hand plunged into the bricks, pulling the Batman out.

“Toys and theatrics will not save you, Bat. This is a brawl,” the big man growled, slamming his opponent from wall to wall in the small hallway they’d fallen into. Some residents poked their heads out of their apartments to see what all the noise was, but upon seeing the giant brute, quickly fled back inside.

Bane tossed him near a large window. As Bruce shook his head, trying to get his bearings, he heard the sound of something broken, looking up to see Bane had torn a door clean off its hinges before it was chucked at him like a baseball. He felt bones break as the heavy object collided with him, sending him careening through a window and back into the street.

“Sir! You need to get out of there,” Alfred yelled over comms.

Back in the cave, Alfred, who had been watching the fight so far with white knuckled hands, was in a panic. In the short time he’d been Batman, Bruce had never gone up against an opponent like this before. This was far beyond any common criminal.

“Sir? Sir? Please respond!” he cried out. This drew the attention of Harley, fresh off of an olympic level landing off a series of uneven bars. She walked over to the large display Alfred sat at, a hand over her mouth as she gasped.

“The hell is that thing?” she asked.

“He calls himself Bane, and he needs to be stopped or Master Br-...Batman will be killed,” Alfred said, his voice trembling.

“Why’s he not talking back?”

“It's possible the cowl might’ve been too damaged.”

“And you can’t do anything from here? No fancy robots or a tank to back him up?” she wondered.

“We’re two men, Miss Quinzel, not an army. We don’t have the tools to deal with such a...what are you doing?” he said, looking at Harley as she walked towards the other vehicles in the cave.

“Looking for something I at least know I can drive,” she answered, pulling covers off. “The heck did he need a boat for?”

“Killer Croc. What are you intending?” Alfred asked.

“Think it should be obvious, I wanna go help him,” Harley said, pulling one more cover off to reveal a motorcycle of sorts. “Ah this is more my speed.”

“I can’t possibly allow you to leave the estate, Miss Quinzel. You’re not...you’re not-.”

“Not what? Sane? Fixed? Rehabilitied? Whatever word you wanna use cause you’re too nice to call me crazy? I don’t really give a shit right now, Alfred. Whatever my frame of mind is, I can at least see the best thing I can do right now is go get your Bat and bring him back here alive,” Harley snapped back.

“Even so, do you understand the decision you’re making? The Batman and myself were doing our best so you could have a normal life again. One untainted by the criminal element of this city,” Alfred explained.

“Alfred...your boss dresses up like a bat, and beats people up while keeping his identity hidden. You’re a criminal element, just in a different suit. And if you want me to stay here so bad, why don’t you just lock me down and go yourself?”

At those last words, Alfred’s eyes looked away, Harley reading the expression on his face immediately, her own features turning soft.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?” she stated. Alfred remaining quiet was all she needed to know it was true. Turning back to the bike she kicked the stand out, and began to roll it towards the cave exit.

“If saving his life means staying in this world, then that’s my choice. Now then...do you have the key for this thing?” she asked. Alfred stood still a moment longer, then dug into his pocket, tossing something through the air. Harley caught it, finding it to be the key as requested.

“Don’t start it yet,” he said, moving back to the computer to punch in a command. A large container rose from the ground. Alfred walked over it, placing his hand against a reader. It opened wide, and he stepped inside out of her sight. A few seconds he stepped back outside, walking over to her with another thing in his hands.

“I’d wager you’re not experienced in our toolset, so here’s something I’m sure you’re familiar with,” he said, holding it out for her to take.

“Just get him back here alive,” he said, the fear in his tone apparent.

____________

Bruce could hardly move, the pain in his ribs unbearable. He’d bought himself a small window of recovery time with a flashbang right in Bane’s face, but he knew the monstrous man would soon find him.

“Alfred? You there?” he eked out quietly. Hearing no response, he groaned in anger. Checking his wrist, the tool he used to call the Batmobile was also damaged beyond usage. And there was no way he’d get to the vehicle on foot in the state he was in. His vision started to slip, and he knocked the side of his head to clear any mental baggage.

The reprieve ended though, as the armored truck suddenly burst through the wall, only a few feet from where he’d been laying.

“Ah fuck,” he said, seeing Bane step through the hole in the wall. His head tilted as he looked down at the beaten man.

“A pity. From all the stories I’d heard, I expected a much bigger challenge,” he said, picking the man up and tossing him back outside. 

“Not even sure I want to finish this job, it seemed almost too easy. Alas, a job is a job. I wouldn’t want my reputation to be spoiled by my own boredom. So then,” he began, placing a large foot onto Bruce’s left leg and applying pressure.

“Where is this Harley Quinn?”

“Who wants to know?” Bruce groaned out.

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. The contract was for your elimination, and the return of this woman. Now I don’t like repeating myself, so let’s move onto the pain part,” Bane replied.

Bruce began to feel his bones break as more pressure applied, and he started screaming from the pain.

“Once you’ve informed me of her whereabouts, you’ll have my permission to die,” Bane said. As the application of pain continued, the screams of the Batman began to drown out everything.

Including that of a motorcycle.

As Bruce began to black out, the last thing he saw was something flying across his sight, impacting Bane’s head so hard, he was made to fly across the area. Then he fell into unconsciousness.

Harley had pushed the bike to its limits, building enough speed before putting it on autopilot. Balancing herself as she stood up, she leapt off as it entered the combat area. Propelled through the air, she took aim at the big brute of a man, then swung the trademark hammer Alfred had given her. It put the hurt on most folk with a basic swing, but at such high velocity, it sent Bane hurtling.

Landing on her feet, Harley immediately went to the Batman’s side, seeing he was in no condition to walk.

“Shit. Alfred?” she said.

“Do you have him?” his voice answered in her ear.

  
“Yeah.”

“Stand by. I’m bringing the Batmobile to you now,” Alfred said, using the remote function to take control of the vehicle.

Harley soon heard the sound of burning rubber as the large vehicle blasted around a corner, stopping as it reached their side.

“Place him in the backseat and ensure he’s secured,” Alfred instructed.

“Gotcha,” she replied, lifting him up. As she did, she noticed the cowl that covered his face was cracked. And in the briefest of moments, she felt temptation to peel it off to see who he was. She shook her head, adamant in what needed to be done.

“Baby steps, Harls,” she told herself as she placed him in the seat.

“What about me?” she asked after securing him. To answer that the glass that covered the front seat retracted.

“Get in quickly,” Alfred ordered.

“What about the bike?”

  
“I shall have it tail the Batmobile, now go!” he urged. Harley moved fast, jumping into the seat she’d never thought would accept her. She half-expected it to zap anyone not named Batman. Once she did, a harness automatically went across her chest and the glass closed up. The two vehicles engines engaged, one following the other away from the scene of the brutal engagement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a bit quick I know, but I wanted to demonstrate how out of his element Bruce was here. Joker, Penguin, and Two-Face might be considered super-criminals, but they don't exactly have super-strength like Bane does.


	7. Chapter 7

His hands were trembling. And it wasn’t just because of the nerves of Bruce being brought back in such a damaged state. Alfred didn’t know when it began exactly, but he started taking it seriously when he ended up fumbling the plates in his hands one day. It was difficult to keep from Bruce, Alfred even went as far as forcing the young man to take a vacation for ‘his own sake’ so he’d have the time to see a doctor. They didn’t have a name for what was wrong with him, only that he likely had a few years left to live. Least he could take solace in the fact he’d have a disease named after him when he was gone.

Hearing the sound of approaching vehicles snapped the man back to the present. Swallowing a pair of pills, he willed his body to calm down for what was to come. The Batmobile and motorcycle zoomed into the cave in quick succession, Alfred quickly rolling an operating table over.

The front of the Batmobile opened, Harley jumping out quickly. “Hope you’re as on point as you were when you fixed me up, Al. He’s in pretty bad shape,” she said as she moved to the back of the vehicle.

He prepared himself, but Alfred still wasn't ready for the sight of the backseat retracting, seeing Bruce look so...broken.

“At least he’s unconscious. That will make this easier,” Alfred remarked, taking hold of Bruce and placing him on the table. He rolled him back to the main area, setting up the x-ray machine as he did for Harley all those weeks ago.

“Goddamn it,” the butler said upon seeing the initial results. Several of his ribs were broken, and his left leg was severely damaged. As much as he wanted to check his head, he couldn’t well do it with Harley there.

“Al...fred.”

“Sir? I think these wounds are far too severe. It’d be best if you went to a hospital and-,” Alfred started.

“No hospitals…,” he replied.

“Sir, I must insist-,”

“No...hospitals,” Bruce uttered again before lapsing back into unconsciousness.

“Guy really likes his privacy huh?” Harley said as she moved beside the table.

“He’s needlessly stubborn.”

“So...how can I help?”

“Miss Quinzel, bringing him here was one thing, but-,”

“Are we really gonna go through this again? I’m already in this now, so just let me help you. Just cause I specialized in psychology don’t mean I don’t know my way around the body. Now where’s the gloves and gown at?” she said. Alfred sighed, then pointed at the drawers nearby. 

As Harley prepped, Alfred began setting aside all the tools they’d require.

“Do you have any experience setting broken bones?” he inquired.

“Couple times. College football games, I helped out the doc back then,” she replied.

“Good. Then I shall need you on his left leg,” Alfred directed. “You will also keep your eyes on task until I say otherwise. Understand?”

Before Harley could ask why, she noticed the bandages he was holding. He was going to deal with the head.

“Gotcha,” she confirmed. 

After giving Bruce a sedative, Alfred instructed her in removing the lower half of the suit, while he took care of everything else, save for the cowl. They then got to work on their respective tasks, Harley doing her best to avoid temptation to look away. 

“Even after this, he’s not gonna be able to go back out there anytime soon,” she said, her tone sounding grim.

“Not for a while, no,” Alfred stated. “This is far beyond a bad day at the office for him.”

“What if he never fully recovers though? I mean if there’s no Batman, Gotham’s gonna right back to being shit, and I’m just gonna be taking up space while you’re taking care of him...maybe it’s better if I just leave and-,” 

Her babbling stopped upon feeling a hand clap onto her shoulder.

“I said it was beyond bad. I didn’t say it was impossible. He is stronger than you know. And I believe having you around can only help in his recovery,” Alfred assured her.

“Really?” 

“Certainly. I can almost guarantee once he’s got his range of movement he’s gonna want to test himself and get better. You are more well suited for that job than I am.”

“Well...if you say so, Al.”

“Good. Now then, we have some ribs to set, care to aid me, nurse Quinzel?” he requested.

“You ain’t putting me in no sleazy dress are ya?” she said sarcastically, picking up the next set of tools to aid him.

____________

Bruce’s eyes flickered open, his entire body feeling sore. He tried sitting up, but found he couldn’t move an inch. That didn’t bode well.

“Alfred?” he managed to groan out. He heard the sound of running footsteps approaching.

“Oh shit. Alfred! He’s awake!” Harley yelled, waving the old man over. “How ya feeling big guy?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” he replied.

“Well it was a door thrown like a professional quarterback, but pretty close I imagine. Talk about getting your doorbell rung, huh?” she joked.

“Ha...hehehe,” he couldn’t help but chuckle at that, but winced shortly into it. “Oh...don’t make me laugh. It hurts to laugh.”

“A lot of things hurt for you, sir,” Alfred said as he joined the pair.

“How bad is it?” Bruce asked. The other two shared a look, and he knew.

“Fuck.”

“Aside from the several broken ribs you’ve surely detected, there’s the matter of your left leg...and your back,” Alfred said. Bruce eyed the cast around the aforementioned limb, hanging in a brace to prevent movement.

“While we did what we could, you won’t be moving for a while, you have a number of fractured vertebrae. Without serious rest and therapy, you could…-” Alfred trailed off.

“If you don’t keep your ass in bed, you ain’t walking again. Don’t sugarcoat it,” Harley finished for him.

“Indeed. I informed our business friend of your problem, and he sent over some supplies to aid in your recovery.”

“What about Bane?” Bruce inquired.

“Nothing about a big red hulk on the news. Seems like he’s not an attention whore like so many bad guys,” Harley scoffed.

“His goal was me. Someone contracted him to kill me, but only after I told them where you were,” he said.

“Me? Ah fuck. Even in prison, he can’t stop coming for me,” she said angrily.

“You think it was Joker?”

“Who else woulda done this for me? Goddamn it. All I’m doing is putting an even bigger target on your ass. Maybe I should just go back to him. Maybe I can get him back to some kind of mellow form. Maybe-,”

“Harleen!” Bruce said sharply, cutting her off. “You’re not giving up on us. Cause we’re definitely not giving up on you. Besides, I’m gonna need a pretty good physical therapist once I’m back in order. Rather hoping that’ll be you.”

Alfred and her shared a look again. 

“Told you,” Alfred said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this be too short, I'm having a bit of a block. And I also really didn't want to go through the detailing of surgery for injuries such as these. I'll likely timeskip as well to the point where they're up to physical therapy in the next bit.


End file.
